


The Good Life

by riverscuomos



Category: Weezer (Band)
Genre: AU, Children, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Married Life, Song Lyrics, The Good Life - Freeform, Weezer Imagine, i'm a slow writer please have mercy, imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7707712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverscuomos/pseuds/riverscuomos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requested anonymously on thiscrush.</p>
<p>
  <i>The scene is so picture-perfect, it's as if it's been ripped straight from a Hallmark movie.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good Life

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: The content of this story is completely fictional. I recognize that Rivers Cuomo is a real person with a wife and kids, and that I do not personally know him. Thus, I am in no way insisting that my portrayal of him is in any way accurate. I mean no disrespect to him or his family. This was written purely for entertainment.**

     The flickering glow of the television screen keeps you from letting sleep take hold of you, but you still feel weariness tugging at your eyelids as you blink, frowning as you try to follow the plot of whatever show has just started--you can't be bothered to change the channel. In fact, you have no desire to move at all.

     You're pressed against the line of Rivers' side, your head tucked against his neck. His arm is wrapped loosely around your shoulders, and his head rests heavy against yours. His lips part with small sighs of sleep, each breath so steady that you can't help leaning further into him, if only to feel the rise and fall of his sides.

     The warmth that seeps through his tee shirt is intoxicating.

     On his other side, your daughter, Raine, is sprawled out over the far cushion of the couch; one of her bare feet dangles from the edge, and the other rests in Rivers' lap. She's much more fitful than the snoring heap that is her father, twisting and stretching with every passing minute. You watch her the best you can from where you're positioned, letting out a soft laugh as she rolls onto her side.

     The scene is so picture-perfect, it's as if it's been ripped straight from a Hallmark movie.

     You wish that you could remain here forever, in limbo between sleep and consciousness, but your muscles are already starting to tighten. It's a reminder that you're not getting any younger--and neither is Rivers. A night on the couch would surely leave you both with back pain and regret come morning.

     You take one more minute to savor the moment before slipping your hand to Rivers' knee, gently shaking it. The snore that's rising from his throat stops abruptly. He slowly lifts his head to look at you, blinking.

     "Hey," he mumbles, and leans to touch his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering closed again.

     You can't suppress your grin. "Time to get to bed, grandpa," you tease, and he gives a breathy, almost inaudible laugh.

     "Am I that old already? How long was I asleep?" he jokes back. It prompts you to close the mere centimeter of distance to peck him on the lips.

     "Long enough," you whisper. "It's late."

     There's a long pause, then Rivers nods to himself--for a second, you think that he's falling back asleep, but then he shifts away from you to wake Raine, who is much more insistent on staying put.

     "C'mon kiddo," you hear him say, "it's past your bedtime."

     She gingerly swats at his hand, then changes her mind, wrapping her much smaller ones around it. "I don't wanna go to sleep," she protests, though her eyes are firmly shut.

     "You already are."

     "Am not."

     "Are too," he chuckles, not missing a beat. He falls silent for a moment, thinking, then comes up with a compromise: "I'll carry you."

     Raine's eyes flicker open, and she removes her hands from Rivers' and holds out her arms without a word.

     He unwinds his arm from around your shoulders and heaves himself off of the couch, hem of his shirt lifting as he stretches his arms above him. "Alright," he says, leaning down, "I've gotcha." He lifts Raine from the cushion, and she wraps her arms around his neck. Rivers adjusts his hold as he straightens back up, and he looks at you with wide eyes before turning his head back to your daughter. "You're getting so _big,"_ he remarks, bouncing her gently.

     His voice carries a subtle awe that you can't help but share. Raine seems to be growing taller with every passing day--it isn't going to be long before Rivers won't be able to carry her to bed anymore. The thought saddens you as it flashes through your brain, but disappears just as quickly as Raine giggles and buries her face in Rivers' shoulder.

     He tilts his head against hers, then starts to shuffle out of the living room. Before he passes the threshold of the hall beyond, he turns back to look at you, raising an eyebrow inquisitively--as if to ask, _Are you coming?_

     You nod and get to your feet, grabbing the remote from the arm of the couch and pressing the bright red 'power' button. The television cuts to black, shrouding the room in a darkness that your eyes will need to adjust to. In the meantime, however, you simply trace the edges of the couch, then the end table, with your fingers before the space opens up before you. Now, you're doing little more than fumbling your way across the hardwood, making underwhelming progress. Rivers seems to sense this, and he slips into the hall to flick on the light. You blink against it, but press on towards the now-clear figures of your husband and daughter. When you're close enough, Rivers is off again, his pace dragging, and you trailing behind.

     The last door on the left: upon opening it, you're greeted with the bright décor of Raine's room. Rivers slouches to set her down on top of her bedsheets, and, at first, it seems that she's already asleep. But as Rivers is pulling the blankets over her, she says in a tiny voice, "Daddy?"

     "Hm?" he wavers. "Do you want your bunny?"

     "Yeah."

     "Alright, just a second." He crosses over to her shelf, where a large, brown stuffed rabbit sits. He grabs it and returns to her side, then makes a show out of tucking it in as he does the same for Raine. "Goodnight," he mumbles as he kisses her forehead. "Don't let those bed-bugs bite, okay?"

     Rivers pats her head and starts to get to his feet. He turns to you and parts his lips, but before he can speak--

     _"Wait!"_

     Rivers jerks his head back around, slightly startled. "What is it?"

     Raine sits and stares up at him with pleading eyes. "Can you sing me a song before bed?" she asks.

     She looks ready to beg, but Rivers needs no persuading. He relaxes, and his expression brightens. "Of course I can," he grins. "One second." He quickly disappears into the hallway. You take the time that he's gone to seat yourself on the edge of Raine's bed, finding it endlessly amusing how she's craning her head to look towards the door, expectant. 

     "Excited?" you ask.

     "Yes!" she exclaims, throwing off the covers.

     You laugh--her enthusiasm is infectious, as tired as you are. You reach out and run a hand through her hair. "Me too, sweetie," you reply, as she leans into your touch.

     Rivers returns just a couple moments later, carrying an acoustic guitar. He perches himself next to you, then rests the guitar upon his leg, plucking at the strings and fiddling with the tuning machine.

     "Alrighty," he glances up and back at Raine, "What do you wanna hear?"

     Your daughter gains a pensive look, and you take the opportunity to cut in with: "Something _appropriate."_ You're only half-serious, the edges of your mouth quirking upwards. Rivers feigns offense, mouth shaping into an "o." Just as quickly, his expression changes to one of mischief. He turns his attention back to his guitar.

     "Nah. Fetty Wap it is," you just barely hear him say, and you snort louder than you would be comfortable admitting.  

     "Do not," you grin, nudging him with your elbow.

     By now, Raine is sitting up on her knees, peeking up and over you to get a better look at the instrument. You can feel her chin hovering above your shoulder as she asks, "What's a Fetty Wap?"

     You and Rivers look back at her, then at each other. Within the next moment, you have your hand clapped over your mouth to contain your laughter, and Rivers is shaking silently with his own, keeled over the guitar.

     Once you regain enough composure to keep your face straight, you turn your body so you're able to wrap your arms around Raine and pull her into your lap. "It's nothing," you assure, but the way Rivers is raising his eyebrows at you tempts you to fall right back into a laughing fit. You bite the inside of your cheek.

     Rivers covers his own last laugh with a yawn. "So, what'll it be?" he questions again, tilting his head to the side. Raine frowns, obviously giving it much consideration, before she erupts into a grin, nearly jumping up in excitement.

     "Do, uh, the one about," she stutters, making motions with her hands. "The one about being an old man!"

     You're not sure which song she's referring to, but Rivers seems to be. "Good Life?"

     She nods frantically. "That one!"

     Rivers gives a crooked smile, eyes darting back down as he adjusts his hand placement on the frets. "You got it," he says with a quick, experimental strum.

     You and Raine giggle simultaneously with anticipation, and she leans back against you. You rest your chin on the crown of her head, humming along as Rivers begins to pick up the rhythm of the intro.

     _"When I look in the mirror, I can't believe what I see,"_ he begins to sing, _"tell me, who's that funky dude, starin' back at me?"_ He looks up, meeting Raine's bright eyes and toothy grin. Continuing through the verse, Rivers begins to groove to the beat, nodding his head instinctively. And, much to your amusement, Raine begins to mimic his movements; you encourage her, taking up her arms and gently waving them, as if she were really dancing. 

     Rivers makes it through the second verse and the chorus completely solo, you and Raine intently listening along. You think she's just as mesmerized as you, in a way--you love watching Rivers in his element. He dives into the third verse, his voice still unassuming: _"Screw this crap, I've had it!"_

     _"I've had it!"_ Raine chimes in enthusiastically, right in time. Rivers is taken off-guard by her addition of back-up vocals, missing a line as he exchanges a look of glee with you.

     He takes a second and picks back up, his voice coming in stronger now. _"...I'm a pig, I'm a dog, so 'scuse me if I drool."_ He sticks out his tongue playfully, and Raine lets out a loud giggle. _"I ain't gonna hurt nobody, ain't gonna cause a scene, just need to admit that I want sugar in my tea..."_

     This time, you're the one to jump in with a, _"Hear me."_

     _"Hear me,"_ Rivers echoes. _"I want sugar in my tea--"_

     The three of you hit the chorus together: _"And I don't wanna be an old man anymore, it's been a year or two since I was out on the floor..."_

     Your added voices encourage Rivers to start belting it out, eyes closing as he throws his head back. He works his fingers to match the intensity, sliding into the guitar solo with vigor. He only dials it back once he hits the breakdown, softly crooning, _"I wanna go back, I wanna go back, and I don't even know how I got off the track..."_

     He builds into the final chorus, and from there on, you follow his lead, until he brings it to a close with a few wildly-played chords. Rivers brings his hand away from the strings, the other still grasping the guitar's neck, as a moment of quiet falls, the hum of notes fading. You automatically start clapping, and Raine does the same, cheering as Rivers sets the guitar against the bed.

     Once his hands are free, Raine hurls herself up and throws her arms around him, and he responds with a laugh as he does the same. The sight of them clinging to each other like this makes you feel the very definition of 'warm and fuzzy' inside. "Did you like it?" he asks.

     "Yes!" she cries, "You're so good!"

     "Thank you," Rivers says softly, touched and at a loss for any other words. He squeezes her tight, then pulls away and gives her a mock-serious look. "Now, I think it's time for you to get to bed."

     Raine yawns, as if on cue, and surprisingly doesn't protest one bit as Rivers hands her off to you. You lift the covers, then fit them back over her as Rivers stands, watching behind you. You lean to hug Raine again, then whisper, "Goodnight." You smile into her eyes, already fighting to stay open. "I love you so much."

     "I love you too, Mommy," she says, her voice thickening with sleep. You give her one last kiss on the top of her head, then straighten back up as she rolls onto her side. You cross over to Rivers and tug at his hand.

     "I'm pretty tired too," you murmur. "Let's get to bed." He nods as your words register, and you wait for him in the doorway as he picks his guitar back up. He follows you out wordlessly, turning off the light with his free hand as he does.

     The two of you cross the hall into your own bedroom. You make a beeline for the bed, then slip under the sheets with a sigh. Your eyelids are beginning to feel as though they weigh the same as a ton, but you force yourself to keep them open, watching Rivers as he sets his guitar in its stand and crosses over to the bedside.

     It's never too soon to feel his body settle next to yours, and tonight is no exception. You seek him out, shifting over to fit your body into his. His head rests above yours as you press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He hooks his arm over your hip, his hand finding the small of your back. Mere minutes pass, but with sleep oncoming, they seem to stretch on. "Well," he muses, beginning to rub small circles into your skin, "she's got good taste."

     You huff out a laugh. "She really does," you agree, and pull away enough to briefly touch your lips to his. You make a face at him. "You forgot to take your glasses off." You bring your hand up and tap them where they rest, slightly askew, against the bridge of his nose. "That tired, huh?"

     "I didn't even notice," he says weakly, giving a small, embarrassed smile.

     "I've got you." You cautiously wrap your fingers around the frame, and he lifts his head so you can slide them off of his face. He lets you, his eyes never leaving yours. You prop yourself up, reaching over him to set the glasses on his nightstand. "There you go," you say, returning to rest against him. As you do, you catch a glimpse of the clock's glowing numbers. "It's two-thirty," you groan.

     Rivers chuckles. "It's alright, we can just sleep in. Neither of us have to be anywhere tomorrow."

     "For once," you add, but you're smiling. He's right--it's your day off, and he's been spending the whole week at home, catching up on sleep and family after his tour. You can't even remember the last time you spent a morning curled up in bed with him. It excites you so much that you can't wait any longer to start. "'Night, Rivs," you sigh, and kiss him again, more deeply than before. He closes his eyes, as if meditating on it. He's hesitant to let you pull away, pressing another kiss against your lips when you try. After a beat, he lets you move to press against his chest again.

     "Goodnight."

     You barely hear him. You already feel yourself slipping, Rivers' warmth and scent flooding your senses, and you have no qualms giving into it.

     If anything is the good life, this is it.


End file.
